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Falling of Angels
category:Classic OtherSpace Logs “Her scales shone a dazzling midnight blue and her eyes glittered like newly found silver, a sight to captivate any man. The very earth seemed to be alive with her presence; the wind whispered her name and the foliage did her bidding. If only we knew how much more real the dragon seemed when she was upon us..." --Woes of the Enemy Overlook This natural rock outcropping, the colour of pure obsidian, is a flattened chunk of the highest ridge of Valsho Peak, a mist-wreathed pinnacle beneath a purple sky, high above the thundering surf that pounds the ancient mountains. A perilous-looking metal bridge pokes out over the cloudy abyss. Nearby, a warm and welcome-seeming pub sits perched on the edge of oblivion. Standing wall to wall with the pub is a two-story apartment building that looks like it's seen its best days. Pekarin is sitting around in the pub, a snifter of brandy in hand. His cane is resting on his table and he looks quite ostentatious and flashy in his white tuxedo. Currently, he's smiling and chatting with anyone who cares to speak with him. The Antimone Militia has scrambled a large amount of their troops, gathered near the Skybridge. Zekia Malid stands with a few troops, looking down in the valley with binoculars and trying to figure out what the heck just streaked past the sky and landed in the mist shrouded valley below. "How peculiar. Strange things happen on Antimone these days..." Zekia says to nobody in particular. She frowns and lowers the binoculars. "Hmm. I have a distinct feeling I was supposed to meet someone right now." Pekarin looks up, watching the end result of the crash. "Oooooh! I just simply /LOVE/ a good show of fireworks." He applauds. "Encore!" The vapour trail that followed the object, along with various other streaks of smoke and vented gasses, currently hang in the twilight sky like a line pointing to where whatever it was hit. Ominous in it's presence as it hangs there, paving a beacon to the unknown. Aendrae putters over towards the militia, obviously curious. He asks one of the soldiers, "Has anybody begun taking guesses as to what that thing is?" The female militia member that Aendrae talks to turn and shrugs her shoulders. "Some kind of ship. Don't know. We gonna go look." she says noncommittally. "I was at a party before all this...."she mutters and heads over to a group that are now readying a vehicle that can pass down the steep trail. Zekia snaps her fingers. "Right! That Pekarin fellow. Ehum, Alize, can you run to the pub and collect one fellow by the name of Pekarin? I think he might want to see this." The woman Alize nods and turns to run towards the pub, entering it and calling out for 'Pekarin'. Pekarin eventually hears someone calling his name, his gaze leaving the vapour trail. Snatching up his cane, he casually jaunts over towards Alize. "That would be me. Mister Laetria Pekarin." He bows low. "Are you with that Zekia lady?" Alize nods and watches the man curiously. "Yes. She waits outside by the Skybridge. Something has come up, and she wants you to join her there, if that is alright with you." Alize says, and shifts her rifle to the other side. "Just follow me, if you will." she says pleasantly and turns, heading out of the pub again and trailing up towards the Skybridge. Aendrae tries to find another soldier to pester with questions. "So, you think there's gonna be any interesting artefacts around? Maybe something we've never seen before?" he asks one who wasn't quick enough to avoid him. The Militia are now ready to head down the trail, as they realize that standing up here won't do much good. One vehicle is already heading down the trail towards the Valley. Zekia moves towards the trail as well, scanning the crowd for Alize and Pekarin. Pekarin follows Alize and decides to do what he does best, talk her ear off. "Well, may I ask your name? I'm Laetria Pekarine. Ex-Vice President for Ship Builders Incorporated. Well, not ex /quite/ yet, I think I'll send my letter of recommendation tomorrow. To nice a night to put together such a dreary thing. . ." One soldier is caught in Aendrae's web. "Uh... artefacts?" he asks dumbly, staring at Aendrae. "I don't know... why don't you go look?" he suggests, and lights up at the smartness of his own answer. "Okay, let's roll already! I'm too young to waste my night standing around here." One of the Militia members walking alongside the vehicle yells back to the group, flicking a light at them to get some attention. Zekia finds Alize and Pekarin and waves at them as they approach. "Good, good. Mr. Pekarin, I apologize for the strange circumstances regarding our meeting, but..." She gestures for one of the vehicles and heads in that direction. "Come; let us go have a look at this ship. I hope nobody is seriously hurt..." she says and sighs as she climbs inside. Pekarin hops into the vehicle right after Zekia. "Well, Miss Malid is it? it most certainly is a pleasure. A beautiful night for fireworks, isn't it?" He smiles charmingly at her. "I, of course, am Laetria Pekarin." Zekia taps on the roof of the vehicle, and it moves down the trail, stopping to take up a stray passenger that can cling to the outside if they want. It stops so that Aendrae can jump up if he wants. "Indeed, a pleasure. And a very beautiful night, I agree. The Ion Storm has been quite a sight and now this..." Valley Trail (Valsho: Antimone) A winding trail leads down the mountain to a rather large valley, a valley that sports several small farms, even this close to the large city of Valsho. The trail is steep but can take a vehicle if someone is daring enough to try it. Aendrae chooses to just putter right next to the vehicle, his hover chair easily keeping pace with it. From here the trail in the sky, formed of vapour and smoke, seems much closer. Much thicker. A good indication of how close the crash site is. The trail is steep, but passable both with these sturdy vehicles and for people walking. The lower they get the more misty it becomes, and it's a good thing that the headlights from the vehicles, and one or two strobe lights penetrate the mist and the darkness as well. The Militia and many civilians continue downwards. Valley of Providence Beneath the echoes of the overhanging mists, far below the lavender heavens that the Lady looks down from, the Valley of Providence rests. Sheltered from the rest of the planet, and bathed in absolute solitude, the valley is an untouched region. Not a single inch of its vast expanse tarnished with the modern architecture of civilization save for a few small farms that look as if they belonged here since time began. Lush greens flow like an ocean over the steep and winding depths, complimented by the sapphires of rivers and the dull greys of rocky outcroppings and the higher formations of the valley itself. Dangerous to the naive, but beautiful all the while. The scene here, amidst the darkness of the night-dipped-valley, is one that is oddly not totally devoid of light. Indeed, various areas of the valley near the crash trail glow with a hauntingly bright blue fire. A plasma fire of sorts, one might assume, though each from an unknown source. In fact, a few of these fires that dimly cast a blue hue upon the darkened region seem to be actually off the ground, just... floating there. Scattered debris occasionally glimmers as light sources with the exploration team pass them by, and over by the actual main deep impact crater, a somewhat large outline of... well... something that can only be described as large and Draconic mingles with the shadows. Not moving. A rock? Most likely not, but it's hard to tell in the darkness. Aendrae looks towards the hole in the ground, and grows very apprehensive about it. He tries to motion for the vehicle to stop, hoping that they see, and will listen to him. The Militia, not really used to handling crash sites like this, are a bit awed by the strange blue lights. A leader of some kind takes control of the situation and divides the militia up in teams that move forward cautiously. The civilians are actually held back for the moment, and the car where Zekia and Pekarin are, is stopped. Zekia looks up as the car stops and then climbs out of it. "By Lin!" she gasps when seeing the debris, the strange lights and the crater. "What kind of ship is this?" "Aaah, I finally got back here. . . finally got back to /true/ civilization. Sivad is okay, but it's so, well, huuuman." Pekarin speaks exactly as if he was a snob. He also seems oblivious to Zekia's comment and continues speaking. "But I did make a fair amount over there. I wonder if you have need of a man of my talents here on Antimone?" Finally he notices the crater. All he does is wrinkle his nose ever so slightly. Perhaps the very odd thing here is that, beyond the huge engine and the debris, there is no actual ship bulk. The three groups of Militia, approximately ten in each group, now comes up to the crater. They look around in confusion. "Oy... there's nothing here!" one of them calls back to the ones further away from the crater. Aendrae putters up to the front of the group, looking for someone who seems to be in charge. Deciding that Zekia is the one he wants, he approaches her, and says, "Excuse me, ma'am, but I think we might wanna proceed a little more... prudently? Perhaps I could be of some assistance...," he offers. Abruptly, a burst of blue flame erupts from the large cylindrical engine, briefly casting a dusty blue tint over the area for just a brief second, before dropping out into nothing again. In this short second, those paying attention may have noticed that a large shadow was promptly cast... though from what remains to be seen. It did seem to be based near the empty crater though, and was much larger than the other draconic looking outline would befit... "Ahh, yes Mr. Pekarin. Your reputation precedes you." Zekia says pleasantly. "I am most interested in discussing with you, later." she adds, staring over to the crater. As Aendrae approaches, she blinks and focuses on him. "What? Oh. I am Outspeaker Zekia Malid. What assistance can you offer, Mr...?" It seems like she likes using the human titles of mister and miss, in general, even in her own language. Aendrae gasps a bit at the flame, and becomes even more frightened. "Well, my name is Aendrae Xander, and I'm a clairvoyant. Just thought you might like some help... Um, you saw that, didn't you?" he asks, his eyes wide. The groups near the crater all scrambles backwards, blinking. They look at each other to make sure they all saw what they thought they saw. A grim looking militia, a tall man, hefts his rifle to his shoulder and says with determination: "I'm gonna go take a look." He begins moving towards that shadow he saw, holding out one hand in front of him. Pekarin hops out of the vehicle. "Well, I certainly do enjoy a good adventure, Miss Malid." He offers her a hand to take her out of the vehicle. "Shall we investigate?" Several strobe lights are now moved to shine on the place where nothing is. Or, at least to the place where something should be, but isn't seen. The strobe lights fall upon the empty crater and pretty much shine directly into it. Yet, at the same time, they result in that shadow being cast once more, of something large and sleek that simply isn't there. Aendrae backs away from the crater a little further, obviously frightened. Zekia gasps out and points over to the crater, being led out by Pekarin. "Yes, I saw that! Or... did I?" she wonders. She nods absentmindedly at Pekarin. "Let's wait for a bit, see what happens. Oh, look! Now that shadow is back!" she exclaims. "Mr. Xander - what could you do with your clairvoyance?" The grim looking militia member continues forwards, holding out his hand. The others stand at the edge of the crater, watching with anxiety and apprehension. Aendrae grimaces. "Well, I can tell you if something’s around us, or what we're around. But I'm not gonna be able to protect us if one of your over-zealous soldiers makes something angry," he says, pointing at the soldier approaching Ground Zero. Another blue flamed fire erupts from behind the ground, mid-way down the impact scar. This one is around seven feet off the ground too... One member of the militia has had the smartness to bring a scanner and is now walking around scanning the debris for signs of dangerous material and substances. Pekarin gasps, "Oh, how very amazing. I must say that this is the best lights show I've seen in quite awhile. Bravo!" He then frowns slightly, almost as an afterthought. "I hope no one was hurt." Shrugging, he begins to walk straight towards the crater. The flames register as plasma fires. What kind of plasma they're burning from, however, presents a big red *unknown* report on the scanner... along with the same word appearing several times over, too. Zekia blinks at Aendrae. "Well... I think we can make a qualified guess and say that..." She stops speaking as Pekarin walks forwards. She shrugs and follows after, talking to Aendrae in passing. "Your help would be appreciated." she says in a friendly manner. The female militia member with the scanner swears colourfully. "Maza's ass." She jogs over to one of her 'superiors' and shows him the readings. A final, large plume of blue flame vents one last time from the wreaked engine, sending forth not only colour, but quite a lot of heat too. Flicks of red fire now lightly caress the grasses around the engine itself, adding to the myriad of colours that dimly light the night scene. Aendrae putters back behind the safety of the vehicle, and goes into a type of meditative state, apparently trying to see things that aren't there..... Pekarin continues walking towards the wreckage, now his direction especially towards the engine. He tucks his cane under his arm and begins clapping. "Tremendous. Once in a life time. . . Oh, I do hope someone is getting this on Holocamera." Aendrae rolls his Clairvoyance with a +1 modifier. The result of the roll is Good (1). That makes the Militia scramble frenetically. Several fire extinguishers are brought forth and foam is added to the fires around the engine. All in all, they Militia seems to be more active and more authorative now, as they get something to do that they know something about. The groups that stand by the crater, watching the invisible thing that is there, are alert on watching their brother walk towards that...something. Aendrae squints, and looks to be in a bit of pain, and the he shouts out. "Wait, come back, don't go too close!" He now has a very worried look on his face, and his brow is beaded with sweat. The grim militia member stops immediately. And turns to look back to the shout. "Whazat?" he calls back, sounding confused. Zekia gives Pekarin a long strange look, but then shrugs. She looks at Aendrae, raising her eyebrows. "What do you see?" she asks. Pekarin stops, and turns towards Aendrae. He gives him a quizzical look. He removes his cane from under his arm and leans on it. "Oh, is something wrong?" he asks. Aendrae putters forward again, shaking his head. "Something’s wrong. Something's definitely wrong. That thing... it's... it's alive. Or, something like that. It's organic, at the very least. And... and there's something there. Something intelligent, and definitely not from around here. I don't know, but I get the feeling it's not even from this universe, or at least not as we know it." Pekarin shudders slightly. "I certainly hope it doesn't bite. . ." He then returns to walking towards the engine. Aendrae gets another pained look on his face, and groans slightly. Then, once his face has cleared, he says, somewhat out of breath, "The lights. Shine them over there," he says, pointing at where the outline had shown before. Zekia frowns and puts a hand to her cheek, standing still for a moment. But then she hurries after Pekarin. "Wait! Perhaps some precaution is in order." she says, and sort of behaves in a non-Timonae manner just by saying it. "This is very strange. We had an encounter with an unknown race just a few days ago - but this is very different. It doesn't strike me as being the same..." she says. She waves to a Teacher in the Timonae Militia and speaks to him. "Call back everyone to a safe distance. Then send a group forward, unarmed. Let someone volunteer." she suggests. The Teacher nods and hurries off to call out orders. Soon, a group of five militia members, unarmed, are prepared to go forth. The lonely grim soldier who went forth earlier is called back. Zekia listens to Aendrae and nods. "Shine the lights over there!" she yells and points to where Aendrae indicates. Pekarin stops, walking back. "Oh, foo, you know how to ruin a good time." He says this with a rather wide grin. He then points towards the five soldiers. "Mind if I go with them?" Aendrae sighs, and shakes his head. "I should go, too." The vehicle lights fall upon the shadowy outline from before. The smaller one, which may have been a rock, that looks somewhat draconic... and the light reveals the truth. The glare of the light results in a desert blue eye's pupil nictating to cope with the sudden shift in lumination. The shifting of two large wings from folded to fanned out, then folded again is soon to follow, and the form of a twelve foot dragon is revealed... one, who now intently glares at the light, yet remains where it is; in a laying position, wings drooping down it's sides, tail flicking just a little... Zekia looks at Pekarin and Aendrae and nods. "Go, if you wish. Hmm, I think I...." Then she gasps and her eyes turn very, very large. She staggers backwards. "By Lin's teeth!" she exclaims and lifts a hand, a shaking finger pointing at the 'dragon'. Now the Antimone Militia gets sort of unacting again. Most just stand gawping, looking over at the large shape that was just revealed. The five volunteers shift their feet somewhat nervously. Pekarin stares at the Drakarian. "Curious thing, isn't it? I certainly hope it doesn't bite. . ." Aendrae doesn't seem very surprised by the appearance of the dragon, apparently having known it was there already. He shakes his head, and wipes sweat from his brow. "I'll go," he says, with obvious resignation, volunteering to be the one who tries to talk to the creature. He then starts puttering towards the creature. Kalanth glowers at the various scattered creatures around her. Suspicious deeply ablaze within her dusty blue gaze, along with a great degree of caution, intent, and indeed fear. Fear, not of them, but of the unknown. She remains motionless, save for the twitches of her ears and the flicks of her expansive wings as she lay there. Some may notice that trickles of deep navy blue marl her otherwise pure white colour, each small stream originating from small gashes in her form. Her left foreleg, it also seems, is quite broken and limp. "I will go as well. I am the Outspeaker - it's what I do. I think..." Zekia says, not sounding too sure. She waves the volunteers off and begins to slowly approach the Drakarian, putting on her most politically correct charming smile. Pekarin follow Zekia, muttering, "I really, really hope it doesn't bite. . ." Giving Kalanth a good look over he says, "Oooh, the poor thing is hurt. I hope she doesn't think we did it. . ." The Teacher of the Antimone Militia calls out. "Turn the headlights away from its eyes!" The lights are turned down, not shining in Kalanth's eyes any longer. "And, ehh... get a doctor here, someone." the Teacher adds somewhat weakly. "Or perhaps a veterinarian..." Aendrae begins speaking, and then uses several different languages and dialects to say, "Hello. We come in peace." Zekia opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by Aendrae. She gives him an irritated look, and then looks back at the Drakarian, standing at a, what she hopes, safe distance. "Uhm...hello? I'm Outspeaker Zekia Malid of the Planetery Council on Antimone. Welcome to Antimone! May we be of assistance?" she says in a friendly voice. Only a quiver to it shows her nervousness. Pekarin walks towards Kalanth, the very image of lack of fear what-so-ever. With a look back he says softly, "Okay, cross your fingers that it doesn't bite. . ." He holds out a hand, with the other he points to himself with the handle of his cane. In the typical way, he tries to translate by speaking loudly. "Hello! I'm Laetria Pekarin. Who are you?" Kalanth eyes the trio of creatures now standing before her, suspicion still quite alive in the manner in which she does look upon them. However, this train of thought is swiftly broken as Aendrae speaks directly to her, resulting in that sleek head of hers tilting a little to the left. The action is repeated as Zekia adds on her comments, a degree of intent curiosity now slightly melding with the suspicion. At that, the large Draconian attempts to move; her wings fan out a little, her tail sways to the side... but... she's not going anywhere. Not that the action seemed to be one of escape, but more formality... perhaps intimidation, too. Finally, the Drakarian does utter her own thoughts. "Valesh, kareth... chi, morath vo soreth forash..." Her tone is harsh, cold, yet her voice holds opposite intones of warmth and a hint of softness to it. The militia members are now having a purpose again. In the background, it looks like they are building some kind of wooden device. A platform of some kind. Aendrae grimaces, and obviously doesn't recognize the language, even with his vast knowledge of languages around the galaxy. He scratches his head, and then shakes it. "I have no clue what she said. At least, I think it's a she...." he says, looking at the other Timonae around him. Zekia watches the Drakarian move and takes a step back in awe. "Do you think that was some kind of polite gesture from it?" she hisses out to the other two. These three are an unlikely combination at any given night, and tonight it's even more unlikely. But Zekia seems to trust both Pekarin and Aendrae to a certain degree. Not waiting for an answer, she bows at the waist towards the Drakarian, mimicking that human gesture with some flair. Pekarin cocks his head at the Drakarian, and then looks at his extended hand, then back at the Drakarian. Eventually he gives up. He then turns his back towards Kalanth and says to Zekia, "Well, it doesn't bite. Yet." Kalanth attempts to move a second time, this time managing to pull herself to her feet and adopting a sitting position, left foreleg still being held in a rigid manner due to the sustained damage. Her wings extend fully, each spanning roughly her own length as they do so, and then flap twice before the Drakarian refolds them behind her once more. From this new height, she looks down upon these creatures with curiosity, then around at the various scattered items of debris and plasma fires, and quite intently at the engine and crater, before back at the ground once more. Trickles of blood still flowing, she again offers some words. "Rakesh voran lorek, chi torashak ro. Vash joran, vash chiath." She sighs a draconian sigh, ears folding back a little, "Volrath vash rokanth." Pekarin turns around and tries addressing Kalanth again. This time a little louder. "HELLO! I AM LAETRIA PEKARIN! WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!" Aendrae shakes his head, and gets a quizzical look on his face, the cowardice apparently gone. "Well, she's not here to hurt us, that much I can tell. Would you like to hear what I think she's saying?" he says to Zekia. Zekia winces as Pekarin more or less shouts. "Hey! I think he... she... it hears us pretty well." she says, and gives Pekarin a poke with a long finger. She nods solemnly at Aendrae. "Please, do. Let me try something first though." She coughs behind her hand and takes one step forwards. She points to her own chest. "Zekia." she says simply. Kalanth seems to completely ignore Pekarin... as if he were very little more than a noisy rodent, or something along those lines. Instead she looks up at the heavens, gaze upon the stars that flicker through the mist, and she whispers: "Liorath, reth vo soran?" A second sigh follows, then a curious glance back upon Zekia follows that in turn, the gesture prompting an amused smile from the big dragon. "Kalanth." she softly utters. Pekarin sighs, coming to a final conclusion. "Well, I don't think it speaks our language. My services here are useless. . ." With that he turns and walks off. Aendrae shakes his head again, and chuckles. "Ya know, from the look of it, she knows just about as much about what you're saying as you know what she is. Besides, I don't know if big-winged thingy's CAN speak Terran. Or any other language we have. They might not have the vocal capacity. What I think she's trying to tell us is that she doesn't know where she is, who we are, and that she certainly didn't mean to be here." He then notes the last little bit, and adds, "And her name is Kalanth." Zekia gives Aendrae a long look. "Indeed." she says, sounding rather upset that she didn't think of that herself. She coughs again and looks back at Kalanth. Then she points to her own leg, and then to the Drakarian's leg. This, because now the militia is approaching, a platform on wheels being dragged along. A rather sleepy looking doctor in white robes is accompanying the approaching militia members. The doctor hiccups when seeing the Drakarian. "What! I'm a doctor! I can't treat...that!" he protests. He is promptly ignored. For her part, Kalanth actually seems to be following the conversation quite intently. Long draconian ears twitch at each word, and her posture occasionally shifts... though the latter is most likely a result of her sustained injuries. Her wings again are outstretched, then refolded, tail swaying just a little. At Zekia's gesture, she motions her muzzle to her broken foreleg, her other being currently used to support her weight. "Lo chiath jorash." she confirms, before adding, "Ro vakesh Sorath valen chi rath voran." Aendrae strokes his chin, and ponders. "She's quite obviously hurt. I'd surmise it from an accidental landing." He points at himself, and says, "Aendrae." He then points at the thing at the end of the crater, and asks, "Kalanth?" The platform is rolled up and the Militia members now look all happy to do something that is at least almost ordinary. Not that they mind having an unknown alien crash land on their planet - it's just that they're not used to handling this sort of situation. I mean, they usually chase women/men, battle the occasional fire and get killed by TLL. This, this is... out of the ordinary. The doctor is staring at the gigantic shape of Kalanth, and he scratches the back of his head. "Uhm... perhaps we should make some kind of support for the leg..."he says. All other trains of thought are quickly put aside as Aendrae points to the crater, a look of deep suspicion now sweeping over her slender draconian visage. Eyes narrow a little, regarding the creature with some degree of distrust, and then back over at the crater, and the Militia members around it. Her gaze then sweeps over to Zekia, and with her muzzle she gestures towards her right foreleg, the one that's not broken, suddenly dismissive of all others around her. Upon that leg, wrapped around half of it, a small 'wrist' padd as one might describe it is present, the same colour as that leg, which makes it somewhat difficult to pick out. "Vash." she boldly utters, gesturing to one sleek little black touch button upon the device. Zekia follows Aendrae's finger and looks over at the crater as well. She nods vigorously, looking back at the Drakarian. Her eyes turn to the wristpad, and she takes a few steps forward, experimentally. Aendrae hmms, and then moves forward and touches the button with no form of trepidation. The voice comes from the device, a strangely different accent and tone in sounding, and two word styles that haven't been used yet. Following this, a very low whine begins to emanate from the crater. Looking upon the wristpad, and the two in front of her, Kalanth bobs her head in affirmation, then decides to explain something using two words, and three gestures. She gestures to the crater, and softly comments: "Valenth." That done, she then manages to balance upon her back legs for a moment to gesture to the assembled militia with her right claw, before dropping back down upon it again. Finally, he gestures towards the valley wall a good distance away from the crater, then states one final word... a familiar one, given a more authoritive tone. "Vash!". And then, she promptly extends her wings, and begins to flap them... ...and the low pitched whine begins to get higher. Zekia looks at Aendrae. And then at the militia members. "Run!" she screams then, turns on her heels and gallops towards the wall of the valley. There is some confusion, but then the Militia members decide that running is as good as anything else and they all begin to make their way back towards the trail, hurriedly. Aendrae hmms, and tries to interpret. "Okay, the ship thing is Valenth. She hit the wall.... And I'm not sure on the last bit? But perhaps backing away would be a good idea," he says, turning around to see the militia fleeing. He grimaces, and then looks back at Kalanth, and putters his hover chair higher in the air. "Is that what you meant?" he asks, gesturing towards the scattering militia. Wings beginning to beat faster, she offers a little bob of her snout in affirmation to Aendrae, before elegantly taking flight... vanishing moments later into the layer of mist that hangs over the area. Yet, her departure from sight is not for long, for while she reaches the valley wall long before anyone else, her landing is far from befitting of her sleek and graceful form, hitting the ground heavily and not moving after that, wings draped like blankets over her body, maw resting flat upon the ground. Aendrae immediately putters over to the opposite side of Kalanth as quickly as he can, watching over her now prone body to see what happens. Zekia runs rather ungracefully, hiking up her skirt. She puffs and huffs as she finally reaches the relative safety of the trail. She looks around and spots the Drakarian having landed and she lets out a shout and hurries towards Kalanth. "Quick! Someone help me look if she is still alive!" The doctor is brought forth and pushed towards the Drakarian, a rather unwilling doctor. He sighs and moves over and carefully reaches out a hand to touch the Drakarian on its leg, as if he is about to search for a pulse. Rest assured, Kalanth is still alive, though weak. It's a wonder she was so... well... normal just a few moments ago, considering having survived a crash of that manner, and her injuries that followed. Yet, she is out cold, and unlikely to be in any other state for a good few hours. Meanwhile, back over by the now quickly evacuated crash site, the low whine has become high pitched, and the crater itself now begins to resonate. Sound, light, and all. This is all brought to a climax when the actual sleek image of the beautiful ‘Valenth’ shimmers back into view, revealing a design that looks almost like an eagle, crossed with a dolphin perhaps, yet without the slimming of the aft regions. It stems out to large engines - sans one - and seems to be coloured in ruby reds, obsidian blacks, pure whites, and deep sapphires... Yet, the form of the ship remains only for around ten seconds, for after that it is promptly consumed by a contained sphere of light - akin to an antimatter explosion, yet within a domed and quite contained area. The spherical explosion brightens up the entire valley, lighting it brighter than day, yet remains soundless - and then, abruptly, the light ceases, revealing only a perfect intended dome within the earth, and nothing more; perfect, and extending only as far as there was ship, leaving everything beyond that dome intact. Aendrae smacks his forehead. "I just blew it up!!!!" He then immediately zooms up and over the wounded Kalanth in search of any type of artifact that might remain from the explosion, wailing like a baby. Zekia looks over at the now perfectly shaped dome crater, a bit miserably. "It was so beautiful..." she murmurs. She gives Aendrae a look and shakes her head, incredulously, before turning back to look at Kalanth. "People! Is there any way we can move and treat her?" she calls out to anyone who might listen. The Teacher approaches, scratching his head. "Uh... we might be able to lift her up on a wagon and pull her out of here... How about the training court in the Antimone Militia Headquarter?" he suggests. Zekia nods her agreement. "Do it. Get to work." Though the debris from the wreckage is still intact, those don't really class as salvage. Twisted shells of what they once were, and shards of that which is even less. However, the engine, though damaged beyond repair, has survived the explosion...